21. Bridget
Bridget
These workouts were torture. And it wasn’t because of the intensity.
No, it was the professional athlete putting on a panty-melting display of bulging muscles who was to blame.
Since we started “dating,” he’d stopped wearing a shirt during our sessions in his home gym, and his insanely ripped torso taunted me. I was practically drooling, desperate to trace each ridge with my tongue and taste the salty tang of the sweat glistening on his skin.
God, he was so fucking hot I could hardly stand it.
Thankfully, in this environment, I could play off my panting as being winded from physical exertion. Though every time he glanced in my direction, it felt as if he could tell I was lusting over him instead of focusing on counting my reps.
Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more aroused, Cole lifted his water bottle, squirting a stream directly over his head. The liquid soaked the inky stands of his hair before rivulets carved a path down his chest and disappeared into the waistband of his low-slung athletic shorts.
My teeth descended on my lower lip at the memory of what he was packing below the belt.
“Bridget?”
“Mmm?” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his crotch.
“Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”
Busted.
“I’m good.” I fanned my flaming face.
Cole fixed me with a doubtful expression. “You sure?”
You know what? Fuck it.
“No.”
“No?” He arched an eyebrow. “No, you’re not sure? Or no, you’re not okay?”
Here goes nothing.
“I’m not okay,” I confessed, moving closer to where he stood. “I’m so needy I can’t see straight.”
Cole’s throat bobbed on a swallow, and his voice came out rough. “N-needy?”
I nodded. “Mm-hmm. And you’re the only one who can help me.”
His breathing grew shallow. “I am?”
“Will you help me, Cole?” I purred, placing a palm over the center of his chest, where I could feel his rapid heartbeat.
“Always. Tell me how.”
“I want you to make me come.”
Eyes bulging, he reared back in shock. “You do? Are you sure?”
Looping both arms around his neck, I hauled him flush. With my lips a breath away from his, I said, “Don’t make me beg.”
That was all it took for him to take action.
His mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue seeking entrance. I opened instantly, moaning into the kiss that poured gasoline on the fire within me, making it burn brighter and hotter.
Like a cat in heat, I rubbed against his solid form, a thrill shooting through me when I felt his hard length pressed against my hip—proof that he wanted this just as much as I did.
Cole’s hands found my waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of my tank top. I broke away long enough to strip the fabric over my head, and his eyes dropped to where my large breasts were trying to break free of the sports bra containing them.
Dipping down, he pressed his lips to the heaving swells, a groan working its way through his chest. “Love these tits.”
My head fell back on a moan. “More.”
His hum of approval tickled my exposed skin.
Caught off guard, I let out a high-pitched yelp when he pinched my nipple through the spandex.
Startled, Cole withdrew, his eyes full of concern. “Too much?”
I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth to mine. “Hurts so good,” I panted.
“Oh yeah?” He smiled against my lips as he cupped my breasts with his giant hands, each brush of his thumbs over the distended peaks eliciting a sigh of pleasure. “You were always so fucking responsive.”
“Only for you.” I clutched his shoulders.
There was a possessive growl as he claimed my mouth in a punishing kiss that made my toes curl, the throbbing between my legs becoming nearly unbearable. I needed relief, and I needed it now.
I hitched a leg over Cole’s hip, grinding my core over his length, but it wasn’t enough to relieve the ache, and I let out a whine.
A husky chuckle breached my muted hearing as he gripped a fistful of my ass, chiding, “Patience.”
I huffed in frustration before taking matters into my own hands—literally. Reaching between us, I gripped his erection, stroking it the best I could through his shorts.
“Fuck.” Cole grunted, thrusting against my hand. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it even begins.”
Challenge accepted.
Upping my pace, I rubbed him hard and fast. “If I remember correctly, you’re just as skilled at getting me off with your fingers and tongue as you are with your cock.”
“Jesus.” The single word was forced out through gritted teeth, realization sinking in that I fully intended to make him come in his pants before letting him take care of me.
His body began to tremble, his control fraying, and his hands roved over me frantically as we made out like a couple of horny teenagers.
Fingers curled around the side of my neck, and a flash of the last time I’d been touched there flashed on the inside of my tightly sealed eyelids—Aiden with murder in his eyes, squeezing with enough force that it felt like he was going to choke the life out of me.
Fear permeated every cell in my body, and a scream tore up my throat. When I shoved at Cole’s chest, he instantly released me, and I scrambled backward until my back slammed into the mirrored wall.
My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, hugging my knees tightly to my chest as I rocked back and forth.
Cole blinked, the lust quickly clearing from his eyes. “Bridget? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head, unable to respond.
Cole took a tentative step forward, freezing when I flinched.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at the tortured look in his.
He blamed himself, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. It was me who was broken. And if today was any indication, I might stay that way forever.
Unable to bear his pitying stare a single second longer, I pushed to my feet and ran from the room, ignoring as calls of my name echoed throughout the house.
Hotfooting it up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me, I shut myself inside my bedroom and locked the door. Then I flung myself onto the bed, brought a pillow to my face, and screamed into it until my throat was raw.
I hated this, hated that I couldn’t be “normal.”
But most of all, I hated that Aiden was nowhere to be seen, and yet he still found a way to ruin my life.
“How have you been sleeping lately?”
My fingers lifted to touch the skin under my eyes, which Dr. Marshall no doubt noticed was smudged purple.
“Not great,” I admitted.
Sneaking into the hallway every night to cuddle with Cole on the air mattress had come to an abrupt halt after the incident in the gym.
Without the comfort of his warm body against mine, I lay awake in bed until exhaustion grew too great, and I managed to doze off into a restless slumber that lasted a couple of hours at most.
The days were just as bad as the nights. Cole was back to treating me like I was fragile, like if he breathed near me wrong, I might shatter.
After a couple of steps forward, we’d taken about a million backward.
“Why’s that?” Dr. Marshall questioned.
Stalling, I fidgeted with my hair, gathering the short strands and tying them back with an elastic band.
“Bridget, this only works if you talk to me.”
I heaved a sigh. “I’m struggling with intimacy.”
She nodded in understanding. “That’s to be expected after all you’ve been through. Healing takes time.”
“What if—?” Pulling in a deep breath, I vocalized my greatest fear. “What if I’m too damaged to ever relax enough to have sex again?”
In truth, I was more worried about what it would mean for my future with Cole if I never found a way to clear this hurdle. I loved him with all my heart, but could I live with the guilt of shackling him with a sexless relationship?
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Dr. Marshall prompted.
Hanging my head, I spilled the details. “Things were getting hot and heavy between us, and then he touched my neck.” I couldn’t suppress a shudder. “All of a sudden, I had a flashback to when Aiden tried to choke me, and I freaked out, shoving Cole away.”
“Was that the first time you two made physical contact in a romantic way?”
“No, we’ve kissed a few times before, and it’s been fine.” My cheeks heated. “More than fine; it was great. And we hold hands all the time—while eating and on our walks.”
The therapist absorbed that information.
“It’s possible, for now, that certain body parts need to stay off-limits to avoid activating triggers.
Your neck is definitely one of them, and you may find that as time goes on, you’ll discover others.
” There was a pause before she continued, “You’ve mentioned that sex with your abuser was never enjoyable.
Do you think it would be possible for you to elaborate on why not? ”
That was an easy question to answer. “When we were intimate, he made me feel helpless.”
“Helpless how?”
“He liked to restrain me. It was almost like he got off on me fighting against his hold and begging for mercy.” After a while, I learned to stop struggling, and it earned me a reprieve, because then there were times he’d have difficulty getting his dick hard to fuck me.
Dr. Marshall made a note on her tablet. “You were stripped of control.”
“Yes.”
“You might want to consider sharing that part of your history with Cole. Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course.
But I think it would help him understand some of your hangups and learn what to avoid as you continue to explore a physical connection.
It’s important to remember that communication is key in relationships. ”
She was right. Talking to Cole—sharing my past with him—was crucial if we wanted to have a future together.
He hadn’t hesitated to help me when I’d shown up battered and bruised, and I knew in my heart he wouldn’t turn his back on me once I explained how truly ugly my relationship with Aiden had been.
Still, there was one thing that rankled at me. “I hate that he sees me as a victim.”
Through the screen, her expression softened.
“You’re not a victim, Bridget. You’re a survivor.
You found yourself in a bad situation, and you got yourself out.
That’s not easy to do; it takes an immeasurable amount of strength to break free of an abusive, controlling relationship.
Some days will be tougher than others; there’s no way around that.
But during our short time working together, you’ve proven to be tenacious.
I have faith that you’ll keep fighting your way down the path of recovery. ”
I wish I had her confidence.
“Is there anything else you wish to discuss before we end our session?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “No. I’m good.”
“All right, we’ll talk soon.”
After I said goodbye, the video call ended.
The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to take back the power that Aiden had stolen from me. It might require pushing through some of my mental blocks, but if I was as strong as Dr. Marshall believed me to be, I could do it.
Now, all that was left to do was figure out how to convince Cole that I was truly ready to take the next step.
A lightbulb went off in my brain, and I reached for my discarded phone, dialing a familiar number.
After three rings, the line connected, and I blurted, “I need a favor.”